Page 43 of One Last Chance

She then pointed to one of a number of circles on the map, located inland, about a mile or less from the cabin. “This was Luna and Koda’s main den, where the pups were born, usually every year. Except this year—they’re over here.” She pointed to a place downriver on the creek. “This isn’t normal, so I’m trying to figure out why they moved.”

“Maybe something happened to their den.”

“I don’t know. But the den by the river, where they moved the pups, is here.” Another circle closer to the river marked the spot. “They usually move them here when they’re about two months old. I think the place inland is more secure—it’s near a small lake and located in the cliffs. I think Kennedy used to watch them from this point here.” She indicated a nearby mountain. “This was where we found her pack, by the way. I’m not sure why she was there.”

“Have you checked the den?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll do it.”

“You know how to read a map and compass?”

“I went to the same wilderness camp that Kennedy did.”

“Okay. Follow the river until you come to this ravine.” She used her thumbnail to trace the route. “Then cut north and you’ll find the overlook. And remember, channel sixteen.Sixteen.”

Flynn smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. Don’t be missing.” Peyton lifted her pack, slung it over her shoulder. Paused by the door. “And if you can’t get ahold of me, I wrote down the channel for Echo’s ham receiver in the back of the journal.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t ask about Axel’s channel. Probably she should put him out of her head, keep her focus on Kennedy.

She stood on the porch, watching as Peyton motored off, drinking her cup of hot cocoa. The air did smell amazing, and an eagle lifted from a nearby tree, soaring into the blue.

Maybe this was her day to fly too.

Packing up a day bag, she filled her bottle in the river, added some iodine tablets, took a couple power bars, the notebook, flashlight, binoculars, a compass, and the bear gun—freshly loaded—and headed out along the river.

The air gathered the sun’s heat, and a bell on her pack jingled as she picked her way along the rocky shoreline, away from the river.

She expected Kennedy to slide into her brain, but Axel sat down instead, his tenor warm and sweet.

“What is river-monster hunting?”

“You know, that show where some guy shoves his arm in an underwater cave or log and pulls out a catfish with teeth the size of my hand clamped on to his bloody arm.”

“And now that’s an image I’ll have to sleep with.”

She laughed at the memory.

Okay, she clearly liked his voice too much for a guy she’d never met.

The ravine cut north a half mile up the shoreline, and she took it, climbing away from the river, up a rocky mountainside. It rose maybe two thousand feet, and her breaths came out hard when she finally reached the peak.

But the view. Oh, the view.

The mountainscape fell to the east and north into a valley of lush greenery, dissected by blue rivers and a handful of lakes, puddling like the footsteps of giants. To the northwest, the Alaska Range rose jagged and white against a pale blue sky, scattered cirrus casting blue-gray shadows into the wells and granite runs that creased the peaks.

The air here smelled of wildflowers, a little brisk, but for a moment, she spread her arms and wondered what might happen if she simply ran off the edge.

Instead, she walked to the summit, stood looking down into the ravine. And spotted the trouble, maybe the answer to why the pack had moved wintering locations.

A rockslide on the other side had dammed up the better part of the river, scree and boulders probably blocking the entrance to the wolves’ den. She’d have to make a note of it in the journal.

But why would Kennedy come here if the pack had moved closer to the river?

She stood, hands on her hips, staring into the horizon. North, then west, then south, toward the cache cabin, then?—